


Persephone Walks

by brynnmck



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 06:35:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/833848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brynnmck/pseuds/brynnmck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“Yes.  And getting sick, getting </i>me<i> sick, and getting us both grounded was the best way to defend us all from the Cylons.  Great work, Starbuck.  Thank you so much.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Persephone Walks

**Author's Note:**

> This is for [](http://raffaella.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://raffaella.livejournal.com/)**raffaella** , one of my favorite people on LJ, who requested Kara, Lee, and "something heartwarming" for an (ahem) holiday gift o' fic. Since she and I have discussed a time or two how much the Kara-and-Lee dynamic reminds us of the John-and-D'Argo dynamic (we just add sex), I wanted to do something that was vaguely based on that… so this premise is a little bit stolen from "Scratch 'N' Sniff," one of the ultimate John-and-D episodes. Though, since I am not nearly as crazy creative as the Farscape writers, considerably less wackiness ensues. Unfortunately.
> 
> Thanks to [](http://danceswithwords.livejournal.com/profile)[**danceswithwords**](http://danceswithwords.livejournal.com/) , my tireless beta, and also my beloved [](http://devilpiglet.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://devilpiglet.livejournal.com/)**devilpiglet** , who let me blather at her and offered helpful suggestions when I was stuck. Also, I believe that DP would prefer it if, at any point where I mention Lee discussing something with the President, you mentally insert the words "IN BED" after it. :) So use your discretion, YMMV, etc.

Even with the fairly thick metal of one of the infirmary's dividers between him and his intended targets, Bill Adama could hear the strident tones of his CAG and his top pilot with perfect clarity.

"Lee."

"What?"

"You know what."

"I can't help breathing, Kara."

"Yeah, but do you have to breathe so frakking _loud_? It's like trying to sleep next to—"

"Would you rather I stopped breathing?"

" _Gods_. You're such a drama queen."

"Sirs, I'm really tired, could you just—" Hotdog started, only to be cut off by two identical orders.

“Belay that, nugget.”

He heard Hotdog sigh, heard the creak of someone rolling over on an overused cot, and then silence reigned in the infirmary.

For approximately ten seconds.

“Have I mentioned this is your fault, Lee?”

“For the last time, I—”

“‘You won’t need your thermal gear, Kara,’” she mocked, ignoring him, “‘Just a quick recon.’”

“You were the one who insisted on actually _landing_ on the planet.”

“Racetrack’s scans were inconclusive, she wanted an escort! What was I supposed to do?”

“Wait for backup, maybe? Follow orders, for once in your life?”

“That would’ve taken forever. The Cylons could have shown up at any—”

“Yes. And getting sick, getting _me_ sick, and getting us both grounded was the best way to defend us all from the Cylons. Great work, Starbuck. Thank you so much.”

“I can’t help it if you have a weak immune system.”

“I’ll give you—” and there was another creak from a cot, and Bill decided it might be an opportune moment to make his entrance. Just in the nick of time; Lee was halfway out of his cot, murder in his eyes, and Kara was clenching her fists, pulling her legs into a defensive crouch.

He waited a few seconds, then, “Captain. Lieutenant,” and Kara quickly dropped her eyes to the blankets in front of her, looking both sheepish and rebellious. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lee settle back to his cot with an expression so similar to Kara’s that his son would probably have been mortified to see it.

“Doc Cottle tells me you’ve been—well, I think ‘the worst patients I’ve ever had’ were his exact words.” Kara looked up at him again, probably searching for any hint of an indulgent smile, but she was out of luck this time. Normally he gave the two of them plenty of slack—too much slack, Saul was always saying—but in this case, there was an edge to their bickering that was starting to concern him, and both of them were looking much too pale and haggard for his comfort.

“Sir, Lee’s the one who—” Kara started, at the same time Lee burst out,

“Kara has been completely—”

He silenced them both with a noise in his throat that came dangerously close to a growl. He turned to Cottle, who had strolled up behind him, his ever-present cigarette dangling from his mouth.

“No chance they can fly?” Bill asked, resigned, and Cottle shook his head.

“Middle ear infections are tricky things. They should be past the worst of it, but I wouldn’t trust either one of them in a Viper for at least another twenty-four hours.”

“All right.” He sighed, then fixed them both with a steady look. “You’re being transferred.”

Kara looked over at Lee, and again, their expressions were near-perfect mirrors of surprise and horror.

“Transferred, sir?” Lee managed after a few seconds.

“Just until you’re cleared for flight status,” Cottle explained. “It’s vaccination time, and we need the beds. Besides.” He grinned maliciously. “You two bug the crap out of me.”

“Sir—” Kara and Lee both started at the same time, but Bill held up a hand.

“No arguments. As soon as you’re cleared, we’ll send a Raptor for you. In the meantime…” He raised an eloquent eyebrow. “Maybe you can use this time to consider the ramifications of your actions.” Then he gestured to Cottle. “They’re all yours, Doc.”

“There’s a transport docked with us now that’s headed for the _Demeter_ ,” Cottle told them, his grin going from malicious to downright evil. "They’ll drop you off at the medical facility there.”

Kara narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. “What’s the catch, Doc?”

Cottle shrugged. “Well, it’s a small transport, seen better days. And considering you’re both still a bit prone to motion sickness…” His smile widened even more. “I’d bring a barf bag, if I were you.”

“Oh, _frak_ ,” Lee muttered, falling back against the pillows, and Bill turned to go, torn between sympathy and amusement; he could hear Cottle laughing as he moved off down the corridor.

 

*****

 

“Lee?”

“Don’t start, Kara. Talking just makes it worse.”

“I just wanted you to know that I hate you.”

“Not half as much as I hate you. Now shut up, or I’ll puke in your duffel.”

“I really, really hate you.”

 

*****

 

Being in a hospital again had Kara more than a little edgy, but the _Demeter_ ’s facility was so mundane, so refreshingly human with its pompous doctors and businesslike nurses, that it didn’t take long for her discomfort to fade.

That was the good news.

The bad news was that the discomfort was rapidly being replaced by boredom, and the bed was uncomfortable and the wireless was driving her insane and her ship was sitting alone and unused in _Galactica_ 's hangar bay and this was promising to be the longest twenty-four hours of her life. Blowing her nose was her primary source of entertainment, and even that was becoming less and less frequent, which she guessed she ought to be grateful about. Still, she wasn't in much of a mood to be grateful about anything, especially considering that if she had to be in a hospital, she at least wanted an excuse to take some quality drugs while she was there.

She was just brooding over how this was all Lee's fault and making elaborate mental plans about how she was going to make him pay when he appeared in the doorway of her room, grinning widely and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.

"Hey," she objected, pouting. "How come you get real clothes and I have to wear this stupid hospital gown?" The sight of him in one of those colorless sacks with holes in all the wrong places would have brought at least a little cheer to her prison sentence.

His eyes widened innocently. "But it's so hot on you." He laughed when she flipped him off. "Actually," he continued, "I'm here to discharge you, Lieutenant."

"Really?" She forgave him in half a second, her whole body going warm at the thought of getting back in the cockpit. "We're cleared?"

"No," he admitted, wrinkling his nose. "Sorry. But I took out the nurses, and the doctor won't be back for—"

She slumped back against the bed, disappointed. "Oh, frak you. Like you'd hit a nurse. Hit _on_ one, maybe."

He grimaced. "Needles aren't really my thing."

"Get your fully-clothed ass out of here and leave me in peace."

"You'd rather my ass was less-than-fully clothed?" he asked, feigning shock.

She glared at him, pointed to the door so vehemently she damn near pulled a muscle. " _Out_."

"OK." He turned, then tossed over his shoulder, "I guess I'll just tell Dee to amend her transmission, then…"

"What? Wait."

He turned back to her, smirking. "Something you wanted to say, Kara?"

"Did you really get us out of here?"

"Maybe." He shrugged, elaborately casual. "Whose fault is it that we're here?"

_Bastard._ "Frak you."

"Wrong answer," he sing-songed, leaning against the doorframe and examining his fingernails.

Frakking arrogant bastard, and she wanted to kick his ass, but she kind of wanted to laugh, too, and that was the thing about Lee. "Both our faults," she tried. "Come on, Lee. I'm going nuts in here."

"Hmm." He bit his lip, considering. She gritted her teeth.

"Both our faults, and I'll spot you half a chocolate bar in the next Triad game."

"Done," he answered instantly, and levered himself off the doorframe. He reached around the corner to the chair outside the door, tossed a bundle of clothes at her. "Here. Even though that gown really does bring out your eyes."

She sorted out the jeans and shirt, shaking her head. "You are so lucky my hands are full right now."

He rolled his eyes. "Promises, promises."

“Where’d you find these, anyway?”

“I hit on a nurse,” he replied, grinning. “She was kind enough to show me the lost and found.”

He waited while she pulled the clothes on, tossing the hospital gown aside in disgust. It felt strange to be in civilian clothes again, she realized, lacing up her boots, and when she looked up, Lee was watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite read.

"What?"

"Nothing," he shrugged. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

*****

Lee had heard the President talk extensively about the _Demeter_ , but he’d never had the opportunity to visit the ship, himself. Before the war, she had been an experimental agricultural vessel, commissioned by President Adar to help supplement the supplies of some of the more inhospitable planets and settlements among the Colonies, as well as ships deployed on long journeys. Naturally enough, she was now one of the most valuable ships in the fleet, their best hope for a renewable food source in the immediate future. Of course, her yield was woefully inadequate to supply all forty-five thousand survivors, but it was a start, at least, and plans were already in the works to attempt to convert other, smaller ships to a similar model.

The centerpiece of the _Demeter_ was an enormous open market, with a high ceiling that was lit to simulate a summer sky. It wasn’t authentic, wasn’t the carefully regulated light that illuminated the plants in the growing cells, but it felt good and warm on his skin and glinted off Kara’s hair as she wandered from stall to stall. Since the war, the market had become a gathering point for merchants of all kinds, with a wide variety of wares. It made Lee nervous, the sight of so many limited supplies all in one place, but thus far they had been successful in controlling traffic between the _Demeter_ and other ships, and they’d managed to prevent anyone from taking advantage of the situation.

Of course, the fact that they were running for their lives didn’t hurt in keeping the majority of the people honest, either. So far.

"You sure Dee won't get busted for this?" Kara asked him idly, gracing a stammering merchant with a killer smile as she ran her hand over a pile of soft cloth.

He shook his head. "Believe me, Dee is very creative, and very discreet. She'll be fine."

Kara turned to raise an eyebrow at him, and he felt the beginnings of a blush starting at the base of his throat, but she let it go, moved on to the next vendor.

"Besides," he added, "it's only twenty-four hours. As long as we stay out of trouble—and by 'we,' of course, I mean _you_ —there's no reason for them to suspect anything."

"Yeah. I'm the troublemaker. Which of us is the mutineer, Captain?" she replied, giving his rank a sneering emphasis.

"You're just jealous that you didn't think of putting a gun to Tigh's head."

"Oh, I think of it, believe me," she returned wryly, then stopped suddenly at one of the booths. " _Oooh_."

"What?" He came up behind her, peered over her shoulder. She was tracing her fingers lovingly over a battered box, and he leaned closer, until he could make out the words "Etna's Best, Fine Cigars."

He whistled low. "Nice."

"Your dad's favorite." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the broad curve of her smile.

Someday he'd get used to the fact that Kara knew his father much better than he did. Of course, she also knew Lee much better than Adama did; it seemed like that should even things out, somehow, but it didn't. "You don't want them for yourself?"

"Nah." Her voice was soft, and this was a Kara he didn't see very often. Then she bumped her shoulder against his. "Besides, I keep winning 'em off you, anyway."

"Just 'cause I feel sorry for you." He was grinning as he looked up, intending to ask the merchant about the price of the cigars, and he was startled to find that the merchant was in fact a teenage girl with freckles and a long brown ponytail. She was staring straight at him, her expression an unsettling mix of shy and direct.

She blushed when he caught her eye, but didn't look away. "Can I help you?"

"I hope so," he answered, trying to keep his face as open and disarming as possible. "How much for these?" He tapped a finger on the top of the cigar box.

"You're Apollo," the girl blurted out, blushing even redder. Kara's head dropped to her chest, and he could feel her shoulder shaking next to him as she snickered silently. He kicked her ankle.

"Lee Adama," he told the girl, holding out his hand, the friendly gesture marred only slightly by his stumble as Kara kicked him back. The girl grabbed his hand briefly, then snatched hers away as if she'd been burned, and honestly, it was frakking disconcerting.

"And you're Starbuck," she continued, looking at Kara with something very close to worship in her eyes, and his friend's stunned, disbelieving expression was more than worth any awkwardness he'd suffered.

He briefly considered telling the girl about how Starbuck had lost a bet to Helo a couple of weeks ago and had had to wander around for two days kissing the feet of anyone who asked her, but he figured that might be too heavy a blow to the dignity of the Colonial Fleet.

True to form, it was only a few seconds before Kara smiled at the girl, her habitual cockiness sliding back into place. "Kara Thrace." She stuck her thumbs in her pockets. "And you are?"

"Andrina. Rina, actually," the girl answered, smiling back. Kara's smile tended to have that effect on people. Well, at least when it didn't make them want to hit her. Or frak her. It was frequently kind of a toss-up.

"I saw you on the documentary," Rina continued.

"Oh, gods," Kara groaned, and Rina looked distressed.

"No!" she objected. "It was… you were… I want to be a Viper pilot, like you are," she confessed in a rush, dropping her gaze to her hands, twisting together on the counter.

Kara glanced at Lee, the edges of her mouth quirking up just slightly. He saw amusement in her eyes, definitely, but there was sympathy there, too, and when she spoke, there was only a trace of her usual edge in her voice. "Can you fly?"

"Only a little," Rina admitted, still staring at her hands. "My dad was a pilot. Commercial, but he taught me a few things." Then, softly, "He was on Aerilon when the Cylons attacked."

The girl was probably fourteen if she was a day; for all Lee knew, by the time she was old enough to have the chance to join the Colonial Fleet, they could all be blown to pieces by the Cylons, or be happily settled on Earth with a functioning flight school. "Well, when you turn eighteen, look me up, all right? We're always looking for new recruits." He smiled at her, hoping she'd hear it in his voice, striving with everything in him to be as normal and mortal as possible.

She looked at him then, eyes huge and hopeful underneath her lashes, and he almost flinched away from the intensity of it; he was glad, for once, that Kara couldn't let something like that slide. "And then you can look me up," she added, winking conspiratorially, "because Apollo here may be our fearless leader and all, but _I'm_ the one to teach you about flying."

"She can also teach you many valuable things about crashing," Lee returned, deadpan, but it warmed him, too, to see Kara so comfortable in her role as flight instructor. It seemed wrong to be grateful for anything about this frakked-up, desperate retreat of a war, but it had brought about some tentative and unexpected changes for him and the people he loved most.

He didn't even want to think about what that said about this bizarre family dynamic they had going, that the end of the world would actually _improve_ things.

"No pain, no gain," Kara was saying as she looked up at him with an unrepentant grin, and even with her nose tinged red from her cold, she was bright and stunning in the simulated sunlight, and he couldn’t help smiling back.

"Are you two, like, _together_?" Rina asked, getting bolder now, and that was enough to wipe the smiles off both their faces. Kara made a strangled noise and became suddenly fascinated with the cigar box; he cleared his throat and fought to keep his smile in place.

"Kara and I have known each other a long time," he explained. Or didn't explain, actually, but it was as close as he was willing to get.

Rina raised an eyebrow. "That's not what I asked," she said, a glint of mischief in her eyes, and he was beginning to see why she admired Starbuck so much.

"So how much for the cigars?" Kara abruptly pushed the box toward Rina, and the girl grinned and shook her head.

"You're heroes. My mom—this place is hers, I just stay here while she's home with my brothers—wouldn't let me charge you anything."

Lee frowned. "Your mother lets you work here alone?" He suddenly wondered how many other children were here, taking up slack for dead or absent parents; plans for increased security around the bazaar started forming in his head immediately. They'd been lucky with the _Demeter_ so far, but its residents probably didn't know how lucky—petty theft within the Fleet was very difficult to control, and it was only a matter of time before it became significantly less petty.

"I like it." Rina squared her shoulders, a stubborn crease appearing between her eyebrows. "Better than baby-sitting, and the boys would never see my Mom if I didn't."

"Sorry," Lee apologized quickly. "It's just… I just didn't realize, is all." _A few more guards at the entrances, maybe some plain-clothes officers to patrol…_

"Men." Starbuck rolled her eyes elaborately, and Rina giggled, and Lee tabled his plans to discuss with the President later. "But we can't just take these from you," Kara continued. She turned to him. "Got any money, Dad?"

Hearing her call him "dad" was wrong on about fifteen different levels, and he winced internally, but damn if he'd give her the satisfaction of knowing it. "Left my wallet at home," he answered, dripping sarcasm. Kara knew exactly how many cubits he had—or didn't have— considering they made regular appearances on various sides of the Triad table.

"Doesn't matter anyway, we don't take cubits," Rina shrugged. "They're not worth anything now."

Lee nodded. "Of course. But we don't have much to barter, either." He looked at Kara, at a loss, and noticed that she had a gleam in her eye that suddenly made him very, very uncomfortable. "Kara," he started, voice low, "whatever you're planning—"

"Your mom like to cook?" Kara asked Rina, and the girl wrinkled her freckled nose.

"I wouldn't, if I was her."

"Well." Kara grabbed his arm, shoved him forward a bit like she was auctioning off a prize animal. "As it happens, Lee here, in addition to being a hero," and she lingered mockingly over the word, "is actually an excellent cook."

"Really?" Rina looked at him in surprise, blushing again, cocking her head like she was trying to make the image fit.

Lee wrenched his arm out of Kara's grip. "My mom didn't like to cook, either." He winked at Rina. "Think yours would like a night off?"

"You." Rina looked back and forth between them, eyes wide. "Would come… to my house? And cook?"

For about the thousandth time, Lee cursed D'Anna frakking Biers and her frakking documentary. He had about all the responsibility he could handle without dealing with adolescent hero-worship, too. "Sure. We didn't have any other plans."

Rina's mouth worked soundlessly for a second, then she nodded convulsively. "I just… lemme go ask her, OK?" And she ran off through the maze of stalls, leaving her own store untended.

Lee smiled and shook his head, watching her go.

" _Oh_ , Captain _Apollo_ ," Kara simpered, high-pitched, hanging on his arm and batting her eyelashes at him. "If I'm very, very good, will you come and cook for me sometime?"

"Frak off," he chuckled, shaking her away. "She was looking at you the same way, gods know why."

Kara just raised an eyebrow. "She was _not_ looking at me the same way, Lee. Your terrible luck with women is starting to make a lot more sense, suddenly."

"She's a kid! Get your mind out of the gutter. Besides," he continued, letting a smirk spread across his face, "did I hear you say that I was excellent at something?"

"I was making the sale," she snorted, "but if you're so desperate for praise, then yeah. You're an excellent cook." He waited for it; sure enough, after a few seconds, "I'm sure you'll make some teenager very happy someday."

"Starbuck, I swear to the gods—" and he lunged for her, laughing, and she twisted and cackled and tried for a hold of her own, and they managed—barely—not to break anything before Rina came running back to show them the way.

*****

The homes of the _Demeter_ ’s botanists were small, arranged in a circle around the market, but they were designed to mimic planetside dwellings as closely as possible, and standing in a real kitchen again, looking out a real window, left Lee breathless for a second.

“We’re so pleased to have you, Captain, Lieutenant,” Cerena Fernandes told them, her initial awkwardness fading slowly into sympathy as she took in the looks on their faces.

“It’s our pleasure, ma’am,” Kara answered, a little hoarse, and he’d forgotten how polite Kara could be when she chose.

They all stood silent for a moment, remembering, suddenly in perfect understanding. Given that beginning, it wasn’t long before Lee was making himself at home in the small kitchen, relishing the chance to use his hands for something besides filling out rosters and dodging Raiders.

"You really don't have to do this, Captain," Cerena protested as Lee dumped handfuls of vegetables into a sizzling pan.

"Call me Lee, please. And are you kidding?" He snorted a laugh, watching the bright colors tumble over each other as he shook the pan to coat the vegetables evenly. "We haven't been this close to fresh produce in months. We'll still owe you, I'm afraid."

"Well, I don't recall babysitting being part of your initial offer." She glanced out the window to where Kara was rolling on simulated grass, half-buried under two small boys in a lopsided wrestling match.

Lee grinned, enjoying the spectacle. "That's not work for Kara, believe me. In fact, I'm sure it's nice for her to play with someone of her own maturity level." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he mentally kicked himself; it had been much too long since they'd had any civilians around, at least ones who weren't trying to shove cameras in their faces all the time. "I mean—" he started hastily, but Cerena only smiled at him, and the warmth in it had the tension draining from him.

"Don't worry, Lee," she reassured him. "Given what you do every day, I'm glad you've kept your sense of humor."

He smiled back, a little ruefully. "Kara and I have known each other a long time," he said, repeating what he had decided was an appropriately vague mantra regarding their relationship.

And Cerena got that look in her eye that people typically got when he recited the appropriately vague mantra, and he wondered if it was time to develop a new mantra, because that one clearly wasn't working. "I can tell," was all she said, but the tone of it made Lee want to bang his forehead against the countertop. There was nothing quite like the constant implication he was frakking someone without any of the benefits of the actual frakking. Before he could do anything permanently disfiguring, though, Cerena's eyes went distant. "We're lucky, you know," she mused. "Having friends and family with us."

“Yeah.” He stirred the vegetables, debating, then added, “I was sorry to hear about your husband.”

Her lips curved sadly. “My husband, someone else’s wife, someone else’s children… it’s an endless list.” She met his questioning look with a tiny shrug. “I meet a lot of people. It helps keep things in perspective.”

Lee was silent, unable to come up with an appropriate response, until he was saved by Rina bursting into the room, cheeks flushed and breathing hard.

“All closed up?” Cerena asked her mildly, and received a glare in return. Rina hadn’t been at all happy about being forced to leave long enough to close their shop for the day.

“Yes,” the girl muttered, sullen.

“Hey, Rina,” Lee put in, trying to break the tension. “Would you mind giving me a hand with this?”

Her facial expression shifted on a dime, becoming all sweet smiles and big eyes, and Lee had a sudden jolt of fear that someday he might have a teenage daughter. “Sure,” she said cheerfully, and Cerena raised an eyebrow at him, sardonic and amused, as Rina all but skipped over to the stove.

*****

Kara closed her eyes, savoring the taste and texture of actual, fresh produce for the first time in what felt like forever. “Oh, my gods,” she managed finally, muffled.

“You’re not supposed to talk with your mouth full,” Anthony informed her primly, seated next to her at the small table.

Across from her, Lee snickered; she resisted the urge to waggle a tongue full of food at him and turned to Anthony instead. She made an elaborate show of chewing and swallowing, making him giggle, and then she poked him in the ribs. “One freebie’s all you get, kid—don’t make me wipe the floor with you again.”

“We beat you!” David protested from his place next to Lee, and Rina, who was on Anthony’s other side—the better to stare dreamily at Lee, probably, poor girl—hissed, “Shut _up_ , David,” and dropped her head to her hand, the portrait of adolescent embarrassment.

“Hey.” Kara shrugged. “The victors write the history.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she looked uncomfortably at Cerena; a few hours of fake sun and grass and she’d almost forgotten that those bullshit expressions weren’t as bullshit as they used to be.

“I’ll save you a pen,” Cerena told her quietly, and Kara smiled, catching Lee’s grin out of the corner of her eye.

“That’s quite a setup you have out there,” she offered, spearing another bite on her fork. “Lots of selection. How’s security?”

Cerena glanced at the children, shrugged. “We haven’t had any major problems… so far.”

“I’d like to talk to the President about your situation here,” Lee put in, and it still surprised Kara, sometimes, that the same guy she’d started bar brawls with a dozen times now had the ear of the President of the Colonies. She chewed steadily, tried not to think of how the President only sought her out when she needed someone crazy.

_Everyone has a skill_ , she thought ruefully, but then Cerena was speaking.

“I’d certainly appreciate it. We’ve had a few—”

“Moooo-om,” Anthony whined. “Are you gonna talk about boring stuff all through dinner?” He looked over at Lee, bounced in his chair a bit. “I wanna hear about how you blew up the Cylon base and got fuel for all of us and saved the Fleet.”

Lee met Kara’s eyes, and he was grinning, but she could see the question in his expression, and she shook her head almost imperceptibly.

“Well, I was taking Starbuck’s place, there,” Lee explained easily, “so I was pretty much lucky and stupid.”

She just rolled her eyes “You couldn’t take my place if you tried, flyboy.”

“Yeah… I just don’t know if I could stoop that low,” he shot back, and damn, she couldn’t believe the easy opening.

“Please,” she snorted. “I think Anthony is taller than you.” She nudged the kid, ruffled his hair, and he looked up at her and giggled again, his breath hissing in and out through teeth clamped tight over his full mouth, effectively distracted for the moment. Kara looked at Cerena just long enough to see the grateful expression on her face, then smiled beatifically at Lee, watching him struggle for a comeback that was appropriate in mixed company.

“I have two words for you, Kara,” he threatened finally. “Triple. Shifts.”

She let her smile go sardonic, slouched lazily in her chair like they were at the Triad table. “Bring it on, _sir_ ,” she drawled, and all of the children were giggling now, and Kara couldn’t help but join in.

*****

“OK, this is it. I’m staying here,” Kara declared, her eyes closed and an expression of pure bliss lighting her face as she inhaled the scent of fresh-brewed coffee. The children had finally, reluctantly gone to bed, and the lights were dimmed in the cozy sitting room; watching the curve of Kara's smile in the soft light, Lee couldn’t quite ignore the sudden tightening in his stomach. He turned hastily to Cerena.

“You were going to say something at dinner, about a potential security problem?” he asked her, nearly burning his fingers as he clutched his own cup without thinking.

“Buzz-kill,” he heard Kara mutter under her breath, and Cerena smiled indulgently, but her eyes were serious.

“There was an incident a few weeks ago,” she explained. “I was on the _Celestra_ —I assume you know her?” Lee nodded; the _Celestra_ was a research vessel, populated mainly by scientists. Like the _Demeter_ , it was one of their key resources. “I was bringing some seedlings over to a one of the scientists there, who thinks he may have devised a kind of light that will support plant growth without burning so much energy. We wanted to test it out.” She shook her head, remembering. “When I got there, his quarters had been ransacked. The prototype was gone.”

“Who took it?” Kara asked, her face settling into the cold, take-no-prisoners Starbuck expression he knew so well.

Cerena shrugged. “The black market is thriving—it could have been almost anyone. The Celestra isn't monitored as closely as we are, because they don't get as much traffic; Dr. Anatel certainly made an effort to be discreet about his work, but he told me, which means he probably told others.”

Lee frowned. “Why hasn’t the President heard about this?”

Cerena just looked at him, and for the first time since their arrival, he felt disapproval from her. “How would she? We sent a message, of course, but how many hundreds of messages cross her desk every day?”

“The Quorum of Twelve has met four times in the past few weeks,” Lee argued. “One of the representatives should have—”

“Which one, Captain?” Cerena shook her head again; there was a bitter edge to her smile. “We originally had residents from seven different Colonies on this ship; I’m sure we’ve got all twelve covered by now, with all the new merchants.” She shrugged. “Which representative stands for us?”

“You’re saying that you don’t support the Quorum of Twelve?” Kara leaned forward intently, and Cerena met her eyes without flinching.

“I’m saying we’re not Twelve Colonies anymore. We’re several dozen mismatched ships, and maybe we’d better start acting like it,” she snapped. Lee blinked, a little taken aback, and Cerena’s expression softened almost immediately. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know you’re doing the best you can, and I’m grateful for your efforts. But Commander Adama said it might be a long journey to Earth, and sooner or later, we're going to have to stop living moment-to-moment and come up with some permanent solutions.”

Lee stared down into his mug, thinking. That last part wasn't news, of course; he and the President and her other advisors had spent hours discussing potential long-term plans, especially given the President's health. Restructuring the government, though, was something he hadn't considered, and he turned it over in his mind, weighing the possibilities.

"I'll certainly discuss this with the President," he told her finally.

"Thank you." She smiled at him, and suddenly he could see the strain in her, the weeks of fear and uncertainty under the self-assured exterior. "Do you think we're going to find Earth?" she asked after a moment, the words almost tumbling over each other.

Lee looked at Kara, remembered standing with her under a foreign, starlit sky, tears on her cheeks and an incandescent smile on her face. She met his eyes, clearly thinking of the same moment, and he felt his own mouth curve, the echo of that incredulous, unexpected joy.

"We'll find it," Kara said firmly, laying a hand on Cerena's.

The older woman dropped her head to her chest for a moment, nodded, and breathed a shuddering sigh. Then she tossed her hair back, her smile back in place. Something in it made Lee's heart ache. "Well," she said. "You'll need someplace to sleep."

*****

"I seriously think you need to get this breathing thing checked out," Kara muttered, keeping her voice low so she wouldn’t wake the children. She elbowed Lee in the ribs just in case he'd somehow managed to fall asleep. It was close quarters in the small living room; despite all the comforts of the botanists' homes, they didn't exactly have space for guest rooms. But the floor was only marginally less comfortable than her rack on _Galactica_ , and Cerena's pillows were much softer.

Lee shoved her back. "What the hell?" She was pretty sure she could hear equal parts amusement and exasperation in his voice. "You sleep six feet away from me all the time, and you've never complained about this before."

"Usually I'm so tired I could sleep through anything short of an attack," Kara pointed out. She squirmed, trying to make her blanket stretch as far as possible; it only extended about three-quarters of the way down her body and it had a stylized Viper emblazoned on it that appeared to be pulling a maneuver that was physically impossible even for her, but Anthony had insisted that she use it, so she was doing her best to make do.

"Right. I forgot what a pain in the ass you are when you're fully rested. Those triple shifts are starting to sound better and better," he returned dryly, and twenty-four hours ago she would have seriously considered smothering him with his own pillow, but now she just chuckled.

"Agh." Her fists clenched restlessly at her sides. "I've got to get back out there, Lee."

He gave a half-laugh, half-groan. "I know. I don't think I've been grounded this long since…" He paused, considering, and she guessed,

"Since we pulled that prank on Cabon our third year?"

She could feel him shaking next to her as he laughed. "Yep, I think that was it. Gods, you got me in a lot of trouble."

"Oh, yeah." She rolled her eyes. "I really twisted your arm. The good-boy thing doesn't fool me, Lee, you should know that by now."

"Of course," he replied mockingly. "You see all, you know all."

"Damn straight." She grinned up at the ceiling in the darkness. "You know what this place reminds me of?" she asked him after a minute.

"Hmm?"

She hesitated briefly, then, "Remember that place we rented at the beach on Leonis, with Zak?"

He didn't answer immediately, and she tensed, wondering if she'd misjudged. "Yeah," he said softly, finally. "I've been thinking about that."

They'd had a week's leave from the Academy, and Lee's latest assignment had been delayed, so they'd dragged him along with them, ignoring his protests that he didn't want to ruin their romantic weekend. They'd spent their days playing in the surf—Kara's skin ended up bright red by the last day, and Zak had taken great pleasure in spreading lotion over damn near every inch of her—and their nights drinking cheap alcohol while Zak skunked them for everything they owned at Triad.

Lee chuckled suddenly; she could feel the vibration of it in her shoulder. "I never did understand how Zak was so frakking good at Triad."

The release of tension sent her off into barely-muffled giggles. "He just had that innocent face. I frakking _knew_ he was bluffing me, and I just couldn't believe it. Gods, I can't believe how many times I fell for that."

"Don't feel bad—I had several more years to fall for it than you did, and it still worked on me," Lee sighed ruefully. "He got those big eyes from Mom, the little bastard."

And that made her giggle more, and Lee was laughing, too, but something was twisting in her chest, the familiar ache and pleasure whenever she thought of Zak. "Gods," she repeated when she caught her breath. " _Gods_."

A long silence stretched between them, and she thought Lee might have fallen asleep. Very quietly, she murmured, "I don't wish he was here. Do you think that's bad?"

He was still for several beats, and then he sighed. Not asleep, then, and her stomach clenched, waiting for his answer. "He would have hated this." His voice was low and rough.

She laughed a little, bitterly. "Is there anyone who doesn’t? Except for the Cylons, I mean."

"No, I mean—"

"I know." She took a deep breath, focused on the warmth of his shoulder against hers. "I know."

Then, so soft she had to strain to hear it, "He'd be dead anyway."

It shocked tears into her eyes, but, "Yeah," she whispered, hoarse, and _frak_ , it felt like a betrayal.

"It doesn't make him less, Kara," Lee said firmly, rolling on his side to look at her. "He was a bad pilot, a frakking fantastic Triad player, and we loved him. End of story."

"But if I hadn't passed him—" she hissed out, her breath hitching, "maybe he would have—"

"Kara." He reached over, his hand closing over her forearm under the blankets. "Stop it." He gripped hard, and she could see his eyes glittering in the dim light, but he gave her a hint of a smile. "Did you ever stop to consider that maybe not everything is your fault? That maybe there are other forces at work in the universe besides Kara Thrace?"

It forced a watery laugh out of her. "Don't tell me it's not all about me, Lee," she sniffled. "I'm having kind of a shitty week already."

He grinned. "Yeah, well, you can take responsibility for getting me sick, if it makes you feel any better."

She kicked a nearby shin. "Pansy."

"Bitch."

"Frak you."

"Very clever."

She tried to kick him again, but he moved his legs out of the way and she ended up whacking her toe on the edge of Cerena's coffee table. The stream of muffled cursing that followed was enough to set them both laughing, and she deliberately shoved aside her melancholy, knew that Lee was doing the same thing.

Emotional cripples, both of them, but hey, it had kept them alive this long.

"I think we need to institute a leave program for _Galactica_ 's crew," Lee told her when they finally got their snickering under control.

"What?" She gaped. "Lee, the schedules are frakked as it is."

"I know," he sighed, "but we're going to have to figure out a way. We can't keep this up indefinitely—what happened to Kat is probably one of the better-case scenarios."

"Lee—"

He cut her off. "How do you feel right now?"

She mulled it over, did a quick mental and physical diagnostic. “OK,” she admitted after a few seconds. “I see your point. But if you think rosters are a headache now…”

“They’re not your headache,” he pointed out.

“They are if I have to listen to you bitching all the time.”

“Bitching is unbecoming of a CAG,” he said loftily, and she groaned and rolled over.

“We’re off duty, jackass. Give it a rest.”

“A CAG never rests,” and she could feel him chuckling again. She sighed, settled deeper into the pillow.

Something was nagging at her, though, and after a few moments, she whispered, “Lee?”

“Yeah?” He sounded muffled and mildly annoyed.

“I hope we find Earth before Rina turns eighteen.”

She felt the muscles of his back expand and relax on a deep sigh. “Yeah. Me, too. Now go to sleep, Kara.”

She yawned and folded her arms up against her chest. Just this once, she figured she could actually follow an order.

*****

As usual, Bill heard Kara and Lee before he saw them.

“… hope we don’t get in trouble,” Kara was saying as they moved down the hall toward the commander’s quarters.

“Yes, because we’re twelve,” Lee hissed back sarcastically, and it was all Bill could do to wipe the smile off his face before they appeared in the open hatch.

Entering the room, they both stood at rigid attention, looking slightly nervous.

“At ease,” he told them. Even at ease, Lee stood oddly, as if his arm was unbalanced. _What’s that about?_ he wondered, but decided to wait a moment before he investigated.

“Welcome back,” he said casually, deliberately. “I hear Doc Cottle has cleared you both for flight status.”

“Yes, sir,” Kara answered, a wide grin splitting her face.

All he had to do to make that grin vanish, though, was ask, “And how long did you actually remain in the medical facility before you left without authorization and started aimlessly wandering the ship?”

They glanced at each other, and he was glad to see that the adolescent animosity that had crackled between them in sickbay had been replaced by their usual adolescent camaraderie.

“Well, sir—” Kara started, but Lee broke in,

“We were doing recon, sir,” he stated firmly. “Didn’t want to waste the opportunity to get valuable intel from the civilian population.”

He just stared at them, until Kara’s expression slid into what she obviously hoped was a charming smile. It was, of course, but he wasn’t necessarily going to let her know that. “We brought presents,” she offered, bringing one arm out from behind her back.

He raised an eyebrow, but stepped forward to examine the offering. As soon as he saw what was printed on the battered box, a smile spread across his face before he realized it. “Etna’s Best,” he murmured. “I haven’t had one of these in… where did you find them?”

“The cigars were Kara’s idea,” Lee put in, “but this was mine.” And he held out a bundle of his own, a lopsided lump of burlap that smelled unbelievably like…

“Coffee?” Bill asked incredulously. “Real coffee?”

Lee nodded, clearly pleased with himself. “The _Demeter_ ’s own blend.”

Bill took another moment to enjoy the scent of the fresh beans, then murmured, “Are you trying to bribe your commander?”

Kara obviously heard the teasing note in his voice, and only grinned wider. “No, sir. Gifts freely given by a grateful civilian.”

He looked at them closely; they looked relaxed and happy, and the closest he’d seen them to well-rested since this whole insane race had begun. “Must have been quite a day,” he said mildly.

“Sir,” Lee replied, sensing an opening, “I’d like to talk to you about—”

“Wait.” He held up a hand, and they both clamped their mouths shut immediately, looked at him with nearly identical expressions of expectation and vague dread. “You disobeyed a direct order, and you put Petty Officer Dualla at risk by dragging her into it. Then you disappeared into a crowd of a thousand people, which would have made you pretty damn hard to find if the Cylons decided to drop by.” He looked hard at them both. “Even when you can’t fly, I still want you easily located in the event of an attack.” And as much as he valued their input on strategy, he was father enough to admit to himself that he just plain wanted to be standing as close to them as possible in case things got hairy. “Understood?” he asked, as they both dropped their heads with varying degrees of affection and remorse.

“Yes, sir,” they replied, almost in unison. He watched the tops of their heads for another moment, then gave up. “All right. Now pour us a few glasses of that water over there and tell me how the hell you found Etnas in the middle of that damn market.”

“Never doubt Starbuck and her eagle eye,” Kara answered, grinning again as she moved toward the sideboard.

“Don’t you mean never doubt Starbuck and her _ego_?” Lee sneered back at her, and Adama bit the inside of his cheek to hold in a smile.

He had to admit, it was good to have them back.


End file.
